


The Things We Do For Love (aka Being a Fairy is Harder Than it Seems)

by Dr_Lombax



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4648014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Lombax/pseuds/Dr_Lombax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Nymphs are allies of the Fairies. The two kingdoms engage in trade and have been at peace for a long time. However, a new problem arises when the Nymphs hear rumors of the fairy princesses consorting with men not only outside of their social standing, but outside their species. With the Nymphs' annual visit to the Fairy Kingdom fast approaching, Bog offers a unique solution to the problem at hand. But can he pull it off to fool the Nymphs?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on the idea of Bog turning himself into a fairy because he has concerns that being with someone like him would cause trouble for Marianne. Credit to bifacialler at tumblr.com for writing the fic that inspired this one. Please enjoy.

It was obvious something was wrong.

He knew if from the moment she strode into the throne room of his rebuilt castle. On most days, she would swoop in through the skylight, usually with the intent to surprise him. In fact, he had become so conditioned to such an entrance that when he saw her striding in through the regular doorway, he almost did a double take.

“Hey” she called out, yet her smile did not reach her eyes. She was walking, letting her wings drag across the ground behind her. Bog thought she looked tired, as though the flight to his castle had winded her. It was like she was being dragged down to the ground by invisible hands.

But he chose not to say this.

“Hey,” is what he said instead. “How are you?”

“Good. I’m good.” She responded, almost too quickly. “I just, you know, thought I’d stop by.” She stopped for a moment, looking at him apologetically. “I- I needed to see you.” The look she gave him was very open and vulnerable.

Bog struggled to find something to say in the face of such sincerity. “Oh. Alright.” He cringed at his own words. They had been growing so used to each other’s company; he couldn’t imagine where all this awkwardness was suddenly coming from. Searching desperately for something else to say, he remembered what he’d just been planning to do before her arrival.

“Why don’t you come with me?” He gestured towards the chambers beyond the throne room. “Some new messages just came in from the mushrooms, and I suppose I could use a hand in translating them.”

“Sure” Marianne laughed, clearly relieved at the invitation. “Yeah. That- that sounds great.” She rubbed her arms self-consciously before allowing him to escort her out of the throne room.

Glancing over at his ill-at-ease guest, Bog made a decision. Something was clearly bothering Marianne, and he intended to find out by the end of the evening.

\----------

A few hours later, that plan seemed to not be working so well.

They had reviewed his messages, shared a light meal at the insistence of Griselda, and had talked about their respective days, although Marianne had found suspiciously little to say in that conversation. At no point did Bog find an appropriate opening to confront her about her unease.

Now they were sparring in the throne room, and if Bog hadn’t realized something was wrong with Marianne before, he certainly would have figured it now.

Marianne was fighting with a raw ferocity he had never seen in her before. She had thrown all strategy to the wind and decided today she was just going to thrash her sword mercilessly in bog’s direction. He was so busy parrying her attacks, that he found no opening to give any of his own.

Suddenly, Marianne swung viciously towards him. It was all he could do to duck and roll out of the way. Her sword hit the rock behind him, ringing with the impact, and Marianne let out a grunt of pain as the force made its way up her arm.

When Bog had caught his breath, he spoke up. “Maybe we ought to call it a day.”

“What? No way.” Marianne shook her arm, and then repositioned her sword. “I still have a lot of steam to blow off.”

“I’m sure,” Bog replied “But all the same, you’re losing your form. It’s best to quit when you aren’t doing things properly. Otherwise, you’ll-”

His voice cut off when Marianne’s head snapped up and her eyes met his. The look of savage fury in them made his breath freeze in his throat.

“ _Proper_?” She practically spat out the word. “ _I’ll show you proper!_ ” With that, she launched herself at him once more. Bog did what he could, but it was clear that Marianne was the superior opponent this time. He simply concentrated all his energy into blocking her blows, hoping she would tire before he got killed.

The flurry of beating wings and clashing weapons became gradually more intense, until all Bog could see was a blur. He certainly couldn’t see the blade drop down under his staff and thrust up towards him. That is not until-

“ **ARGGH!** ” He dropped his staff with a clang, backed away and clasped both hands to his face. Dimly, he was award of the sound Marianne’s sword made as it joined his weapon on the floor.

“BOG!” He heard her cry out, and then felt her hands over his, trying to pry them away. “God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to- I can’t believe I- Are you hurt?- Come on, let me see.” But he shook his head, backing away from her.

As his adrenaline wore off, Bog forced himself to take several calming breaths. He opened his eyes, finding that he could still see just fine. He then brought his hands away from his face, and looked at them. There was a small amount of blood, nothing he would be concerned about. Taking two fingers, he traced the edge of his wound.

It appeared to be a gash, three to four inches long, running up the side of his cheek. While it came very close to his eye, and even nicked the outside of his ear, it seemed he had been relatively unharmed.

Bog let out a soft sigh of relief, then became dimly aware that Marianne was looking at him, her babbling fit having subsided. Her eyes were wide and guilt ridden, clearly waiting for him to become furious with her. He cleared his throat, causing here to flinch.

“Well” he began, nervously “It certainly doesn’t seem too bad. Initial prognosis: I will live.” He laughed softly. “So would you say you’re ready to call it a day now?”

He had meant for the remark to be teasing, but Marianne’s face twisted with guilt and before he could backpedal out of it, she started babbling again.

“I’m so sorry.” She choked out “I shouldn’t have- I never meant to- Oh gods, I could have- have-“

Suddenly, Marianne buried her face in her hands and sank to the ground, sobbing. Bog, stood completely frozen for a second, shocked and at a loss for what to do. He forced himself to shake off his stupor, then went and knelt beside her.

“Shhhh” he murmured against her hair, stroking her back. “Hey, it’s alright. Everything’s fine. It’s alright Tough Girl.”

“I don’t feel that tough right now.” She replied, between shuddering sobs. “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you.” Bog answered sincerely. “Even tough people can have rough days. Doesn’t make you any less tough.”

After a few less than dignified sniffles, Marianne regained control of herself. “I’m sorry.” She repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Don’t worry about it.” Bog repeated as well. “No real damage done.”

Marianne looked up into his face, studying the gash. “Will it leave a mark?”

Bog shrugged “Maybe. Maybe not. Goblins don’t worry so much about scars. They just happen, and as long as we can still function, we live with them.”

His words were genuine, but he could tell Marianne was still slightly upset over the idea that she might have left a permanent mark on his face. He decided that now was as good a time as ever to take his opportunity, and spoke what had been on his mind.

“Now why don’t you tell me what’s really been upsetting you all day?”

Marianne opened her mouth, looking as though she was planning on feigning ignorance, but something in his eyes stopped her. Instead, she just sighed. “That obvious, am I?”

Bog barked out a laugh. “If you were your normal self, you would be crowing from the rooftops right now, bragging about how you managed to fell the mighty Bog King in combat.”

Marianne huffed out a small breath of laughter, and Bog felt a tender surge of happiness, having been the cause of it.

They remained in that position for a few moments. Marianne worked on getting her breathing back to normal, and Bog waited patiently for her to speak.

At length, she spoke up. “I can’t.” She said brokenly. “I just can’t talk about it. Not to you.”

Bog felt his heart constrict at those words, and hundred worst case scenarios immediately went through his mind. However, he forced himself to stay calm.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” He asked gently.

She looked at him with some confusion, before realization dawned on her face.

“Oh no.” She was quick to rectify. “It’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine, really.” She stood and composed herself then, and he stood with her.

“Honestly,” she continued “It’s not even an actual problem. I mean, it’s not going to have any real impact on my life, so I don’t even know what I’m getting so worked up about.” She turned briskly and picked up her sword off the floor. “It’s just something I need to get over.”

Bog considered pressing her further, but thought better. “Okay” he said. She turned to him, clearly surprised at this lack of insistence. “Just remember,” he walked over to her, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder “if you ever change your mind, you always know where to find me.”

“Alright” she smiled at him, then looked up, her face falling. “Oh no. Is it really that late?”

Bog followed her gaze. Through the skylight, he could see that the sky outside was painted with the purple hue of twilight. How so much time had managed to pass without his notice was beyond him.

“I need to get home.” Marianne sheathed her sword and Bog followed her out to the entrance.

“Stay safe.” He bid her goodbye. “Spider webs are even harder to see in dark like this.”

She rolled her eyes and gave him a look of fond exasperation that said his comment wasn’t very much appreciated. “I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

It was a clear attempt to put their awkward moment behind them by falling back into old snarkiness, but Bog let it pass without comment. Then she kicked off, soaring quickly away into the dusky evening.

Bog watched her go, worry and trepidation rooted in his heart.

_I just can’t. Not to you._

What did she mean? What could she not tell him about? Did it have something to do with him?

He shook these thoughts from his head forcefully, before heading back inside. If she decided to open up to him, then she would. In the meantime, there was no reason to assume anything was wrong.

With that thought, he headed back into his castle, determined to find something to stop the bleeding from his cheek.


	2. Chapter 2

In the following weeks, everything seemed fine. Marianne came to visit just as often as always, and although she seemed quieter than usual for the first few days, it wasn’t long before she was back to her old self. Soon Bog had forgotten all about that unpleasant night.

Then, one day in late spring, he found himself stuck on the far side of the forest, dealing with the aftermath of a small brush fire. By the time he got back to his castle it was very late, and he was looking forward to collapsing into his bed.

These thoughts fled from his mind, however, when he got to the throne room. Sitting on the steps to his throne was Marianne, hugging her knees with her head bowed. Not sure if she was just dazed or asleep, Bog stepped forward and cleared his throat. The noise made her look up quickly, and from her expression he could tell she was caught off guard.

“Bog,” she said and sprang to her feet. “Hey, I was waiting for you. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, fighting back a yawn. “Just some business on the north end of the forest that needed clearing up. Nothing to worry about.”

“That’s good. I’m glad.” She rubbed her arms, glancing at the ground. “I, um, I really needed to see you.”

“Hmmm? Why?”

Marianne cleared her throat before continuing. “So, remember when-“ she gestured to her cheek.

At first, Bog was confused. Then his hand went up to his own cheek, where nothing but a thin, pale line remained of his scar. “Aye. I remember.”

“Yeah, and remember you asked if I wanted to talk about it?”

Bog nodded.

“Well, the thing is, I need to talk about it. To you.”

Bog tried not to show what those words did to him, even as his heart leapt inside his chest so violently he thought his ribs would be bruised from the inside. Instead, he solemnly nodded and sat down on the steps, motioning for her to join him. Marianne leaned against him and put her head on his shoulder. When she spoke next, it was with a heavy tone.

“It had all started with a letter we got that morning…“

\----------

The breakfast table in the fairy castle was ridiculously large. It was occasionally used for feasts and other grand celebrations, but for most every morning, it seemed uncomfortably too big as it seated the three members of the royal family.

Dawn and Marianne sat on either side of their father, who was positioned at the head of the table. They were eating their meals in silence, which had become the norm lately. Tensions between Dagda, the King of the Fairy Kingdom, and his daughters had been high, but no one wanted things to escalate any further. So for now, everyone was keeping to themselves.

Marianne glanced over to her father, then to Dawn. Both were making sure to not look at the other. Just last night, there had been a fight. It started when the King had caught Dawn sneaking Sunny into her chambers in the middle of the night.

Dawn claimed that nothing had happened; they had simply wanted to hang out. Dagda was too upset to listen, and vowed that Sunny was banned from the castle for the foreseeable future. This had, of course, erupted into a screaming match that Marianne couldn’t escape hearing, no matter how hard she pressed her pillows to her ears. Now, even though each side wanted to make peace with the other, neither felt too eager to apologize.

Marianne’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of padding feet coming down the nearby hall. A messenger appeared in the dining room, carrying an envelope on a silver tray. He approached the king and loudly proclaimed “A NOTE FROM YOUR DEAR COUSINS, THE NYMPHS!” When Dagda picked up the envelope, the servant bowed, and departed.

“The Nymphs?” Marianne raised one brow in question. Although the Nymphs living far across the ocean did share a common ancestor with fairies, they were by no means close relations. The royalty from each family simply referred to each other as ‘cousin’ as a formal show of allegiance. “What do they want?”

“Hmmm. Well let’s see.” The King used his butter knife to open the letter. Even Dawn, who was trying to appear disinterested because she was supposed to be mad at their father, couldn’t help leaning in close, brimming with curiosity. For as long as she and Marianne had been alive, the Nymphs would only interact with their family once a year. They came to the fairy kingdom, stayed for a week to discuss trade regulations between the two realms, and then set sail, not to be heard from again until the next year. Even though the time was drawing near for their annual visit, they had never before sent word to the Fairy Kingdom for any reason.

Dagda unfurled the letter and read over it silently. This of course, frustrated his daughters to no end, but they waited for him to finish.

As he read, his face went through a myriad of expressions. First, he became confused, then shocked, and lastly, he went a bit pale, before shooting a nervous look to both of his daughters, who were still looking at him expectantly.

Dagda then coughed into his hand. “It’s- it’s nothing important. Just a- um- list of the trade regulations they wish to discuss this year.”

“Oh really?” Marianne’s voice made it clear she wasn’t buying it. “Well then maybe I should take a look at it. After all, I did say I wanted to be part of the discussions this year.”

Dagda went even paler, before scrambling up from the table. “No, no- that won’t be necessary. I think I’ll just retire to my study, where I’ll write the response letter to them. If you’ll ex-“

Dagda wasn’t given the opportunity to finish, because just then, Marianne and Dawn shared a look. A split second later, Dawn tackled their father’s feet, while Marianne dove for the letter. The king let out a cry of surprise, before falling to the ground. The letter was snatched out of his hands, and the two princesses took off, fast as lightning, while their father huffed and called after them.

\----------

“I knew you and your sister were sinister.” Bog muttered smugly.

“Oh hush,” Marianne smacked him lightly on the arm. “It was necessary. He was being so obvious. It was actually pretty insulting that he thought we would buy it.”

“So what happened next?”

Marianne had begun to fidget next to him, and was silent for a few moments. Just when he had thought she’d changed her mind about telling him, she spoke up.

“Next we went somewhere we knew Dad wouldn’t be able to follow…”

\----------

The sloping roof of the castle faced towards the rising sun. The two princesses made themselves comfortable, knowing that their father could not follow them to such heights, impeded as he was by his age and girth.

“You sure you want to do this?” Dawn asked nervously. Although she had been eager at the beginning of their venture, she began to show nerves, as she always did when rules were broken and authority defied.

“Is that even a real question?” Marianne looked at the letter sitting curled in her fist. Whatever had made her father react in such a way, she would not let it lie so easily. Without wasting another moment, she flattened the paper over her knee and moved closer to Dawn so they could both read the contents of the letter. It read as follows:

_Dearly beloved cousins,_

_Salutations from the Isle of Nymphs. My companions and I are looking forward to the pleasure of your company within the coming month. The reason that I am writing you is to clear up a small issue. There have been rumors in our land from across the sea that your younger daughter has been consorting with an elf. Such a slight against your character would seem bad enough, but brace yourself cousin, for there is more. Apparently, more rumors say that your other daughter, the eldest and future queen, has formed romantic relations with a goblin. I wish not to shock you with such as awful insult to you and your family. This is merely what we have heard from others. If you would, please write back soon so that we may tell our people, from your own mouth, that such deplorable falsehoods are not founded by any means._

_Sincerely,_

_King Cassius, Ruler of Nymphs_

For a moment, neither fairy could speak, each one lost in her own whirlwind of emotions brought on by what they the seemingly innocent scrap of paper in front of them. Finally, Marianne stood.

“I’m going to talk to Dad.” With that, she kicked off the roof, opened her wings, and soared away, leaving the letter in her sister’s hands.

\----------

Marianne marched through the doors of her father’s study, just as he was standing from his desk, a roll of parchment in one hand.

As he saw her, his face betrayed panic, before quickly marshaling himself into looking stern. However, she didn’t miss how he casually attempted to hide the scroll he was now carrying out of her sight.

“Marianne. I was looking for you. You and your sister should know better than to-“

“You should know better than to lie to us.” Marianne spat out. Any possible guilt she might have felt was overpowered by her indignant anger. “And the Nymphs should know better than to lecture us on how we live our lives. What does it matter to them who I love? I bet they’ve never even bothered to know my name.”

“It matters to them because they are associated with us.” Her father said briskly. “Anything we do outside of proper royal decorum reflects badly on them.”

The line sounded rehearsed, and Marianne would not have been the least bit surprised if he had been practicing it while waiting for her to come barging in.

“Well, I guess they will just have to live with being looked down on. Poor them.” When her father didn’t respond, Marianne looked at him suspiciously. “What?”

Dagda fidgeted, and then sighed. He produced the scroll from behind his back and waved it in her direction. “I have written my response to the Nymphs. I have told them that the rumors are indeed false, and that no such things are occurring in this kingdom.” The no-nonsense look he gave her hardened, conveying that he would not be swayed on this decision.

Marianne felt the beginnings of a headache. “Why? Do you really think lying to them is a good idea in the long run? Do you expect me to-“

“Yes. I do.” Dagda snapped harshly, causing Marianne to recoil. Indignant or not, he was still her father, and there would always be a part of her that shrank under his anger. For a moment, something like guilt flashed on his face, but he continued nonetheless.

“You and I both know what kind of creatures these nymphs are. They are strictly orthodox in all ways. Even the slightest- well… slight, could cause them to break all ties with us. And I, for one, will not contribute to such a disaster, nor will I allow you or your sister to either. Now good day.” Without another word, he strode out of the office.

Marianne stood quietly in a state of shock. A small voice in the back of her head spoke up, telling her that her father had a good point. Trade with the Nymphs had been part of the foundation of their kingdom for millennia. They brought in food, building supplies, and rare medicines from across the sea that the fairy kingdom had become dependent on.

But she didn’t want to listen to that voice. She only felt the helpless fury that coursed through her at these presumptuous, obnoxious beings that didn’t care for her at all, yet insisted on instructing her on how she was to live.

Just then came the sound of flapping wings, and Dawn joined her. She had finally shaken off her own paralysis, and had come to confront their father, just like Marianne had. Seeing her sister standing stock still in the middle of the King’s study brought her up short though.

“Marianne?” she ventured. “What happened? Where’s Dad?”

Her voice snapped Marianne out of her trance, and she looked to her sister, eyes filling with tears of frustration. Rather than saying anything, she turned and sped out of the room. As she reached the outdoors, she jumped into the air, pumping her wings furiously. Without a glance backwards she sped off towards the forest, feeling a desperate need to see Bog.

\----------

For a moment, Bog and Marianne sat awkwardly. Finally, Bog cleared his throat.

“That’s um-“ he floundered for something to say.

“Yeah.” Marianne sighed, leaning deeper into his shoulder. “Now do you see why I couldn’t tell you about it?”

“Aye,” He conceded. “That’s fair.” Truthfully, he wasn’t all that upset. If anything, he was relieved that her discomfort hadn’t been caused by anything he’d done. Besides, he was used to people not approving of him. The ridicule of her relations meant little to him, but he refrained from saying so, because clearly it meant something to her. Just then, a thought occurred to him.

“So what happened between then and now to make you change your mind?”

She gave him a dry, humorless smile. “I was wondering when you’d ask. Just today, we received a follow up letter from the Nymphs…”

\----------

A good deal of time had passed since the incident with the Nymph’s letter. Still, Marianne automatically felt herself tense when she heard the telltale steps of the messenger outside of the dining hall.

This time, they had been eating lunch, and the atmosphere had been friendlier than it had in a long time. Which was part of why Marianne felt herself glaring daggers at the poor messenger who strode through the door, announcing another message from the Nymphs for the Fairy King.

Catching Marianne’s eye, he quickly deposited the scroll in front of Dagda and beat a hasty retreat. The door slammed on his way out, and for a moment, there was complete silence.

Both daughters gave their father a grim warning look and he sighed, holding up his hands in surrender. This time when he read the letter, he made sure to read it aloud to them.

_Dearest Cousin,_

_We have just received your letter in response to our query. We are quite glad to have such horrendous falsehoods cast behind us. It also gladdens us to inform you that we have been considering a strengthening of the alliance between our house and yours. That is why, this year, my two young sons will be joining me on my visit to your kingdom, with the hope of winning your daughters’ hands in marriage. Hopefully, a union of this kind will suffice to dispel any and all harmful rumors regarding your daughters. I look forward to our visit eagerly._

_Yours,_

_King Cassius, Ruler of Nymphs_

\----------

“Oh” was all Bog could manage.

“Yeah” Marianne snorted. “Oh is right.”

“So what happened then?”

“Pretty much exactly what you would imagine.” Now Marianne stood up and began pacing. “Dad and I had a yelling match. The worst part is I knew that lying to another King wouldn’t go without consequences, but he refused to listen to me. And now we’re all stuck in this mess.”

Her pacing became frantic, and she began to wave her arms wildly. “Obviously I’m not going to marry anyone from that island. You’ve never met a Nymph, but let me tell you, it would be a fate worse than death. And Dawn and I can’t just say ‘Hey, remember how we said that we weren’t dating a goblin and an elf respectively? Well that was just a little fib. So sorry.’ I mean, I can only imagine how well that would go over. But we can’t refuse them without an excuse and I just-“

She was brought up short by a pair of long thin arms wrapping her in a tight hug. He rooted her to the ground, halting her pacing, and ran a hand through her hair.

“Listen” he said softly. “I know this seems like trouble, but I promise you, we’ll find a way out of it together. I won’t let you face this alone.”

Marianne pulled from his embrace, and leaned back to look him in the eye. “How?” her expression told him that she wanted to believe his words, but she couldn’t give herself that hope.

Bog looked away contemplatively. At length, he spoke.

“I don’t know.” When he saw the disappointment in her fast, he pressed on “Yet. I don’t know yet. But I am sure that I’ll think of something. I swear.”

Marianne nodded and did her best to give a smile of encouragement, but he could tell she didn’t believe him. Bog moved his hand to her back and rubbed reassuringly. “Look. Why don’t you just go home for now? It’s late and we both need some sleep. We can try to come up with a plan tomorrow.

Marianne nodded once more. Then she turned and walked out of the throne room. He waited for the sound of her wings taking off, before collapsing onto his throne with a weary sigh.

What plan could he possibly have? Marianne was right. If she tried to refuse the Nymphs, they would demand an explanation and she couldn’t very well give him as the reason. But she couldn’t very well allow herself to be given away to these awful, snobby folk who were brazen enough to march into her land and lay claim to her as though she was their god given right. The very thought made Bog growl and bare his teeth in a furious snarl. He knew very little of these Nymphs, but already he was sure that Marianne would be nothing short of miserable spending the rest of her life with them. In another kingdom. Across the ocean. Far away. From him.

Bog put his head in his hands and gave a world-weary sigh. The thought of the misery she would endure was terrible enough. But the thought of him losing her on top of that sent a wave of painful anguish through him that he had to shut his eyes against.

“Wow. Sounds like a real pickle.”

Bog gave a surprised yelp and turned. Floating in a dark corner of the throne room, just out of sight, was the Sugar Plum Fairy. When his eyes found her, she gave a giggle and waved her fingers at him.

“Urggggh” Bog articulated, narrowing his gaze. “What. Are. You. Doing?”

“Oh, don’t mind me. I just like to see what’s going on with other people’s lives. You know, since I have nothing better to do.” She looked at him pointedly.

Bog growled and pinched the bridge of his nose. After the incident with the love potion, Plum had been given amnesty by the Bog King, provided that she ceased making love potions in the Dark Forest. While she had been incredibly indignant at such a sentence, the Bog King had remained adamant. He said that while he was wrong in many ways, he stood by his belief that love potions were evil in nature, and that she would be jailed again if she were ever caught making or using them in his woods.

Plum had remained very sore ever since, and badgered him about it multiple times. The Bog King always responded to these complaints the same way.

“Well” he said now, just as he had said several times before, his mouth almost moving of its own accord with the ease of much practice. “If you want to keep making love potions, why not do so in the Fairy Kingdom? You know, where I have no jurisdiction?”

Plum stuck out her tongue at him. For some reason that was completely beyond him, Plum had decided to use her new-found freedom to stay in the Dark Forest. Part of him believed that she simply wanted to pester him as vengeance for all the years she had been locked away. Another part told him it was because she had come to enjoy making him as uncomfortable as possible, and had found a kindred spirit in his mother. Strangely enough, the two had become almost inseparable since the incident. The conjoined power of their ability to irritate him (not to mention deeply embarrass him) had led him to consider locking them both away in the dungeons more than once.

“Let’s not have this conversation again.” Plum said. She drifted closer to him. “Let’s talk about you instead.”

“There’s nothing to talk about” Bog muttered morosely, closing one hand around his face. “Just leave me alone.”

“Oh but there is.” Plum sang brightly. “For as it turns out, I have the perfect plan to solve everything. Would you like to hear it?”

Bog lifted his fingers enough for one eye to peak out and regard the blue fairy with hesitance. Plum was the last person he would have chosen to go to for advice. But he knew he didn’t have any ideas, and here she was, offering a solution to his problem. It couldn’t hurt to at least listen to what she had to say. Could it?

“Very well,” he sighed, waving his hand. “Tell me what you've got.”

Plum giggled shrilly, setting Bog’s teeth on edge, before sidling close to him so she could whisper conspiratorially. Bog leaned back since this was entirely unnecessary, as they were the only two people in the throne room.

“So here’s what I’m thinking” Plum began “Dagda told the nymphs that Marianne was not with a Goblin, and Dawn was not with an elf, correct?”

“That’s true.” Bog ground out. How long had she been listening? How had he not noticed her presence?

“However,” Plum went on, oblivious to Bog’s irritation, or purposefully ignoring it “He did not say that either of them was single.”

Bog quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah. And this helps up how?”

“Because,” Plum said with a wicked smile “I know a way to take advantage of that fact.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should add at this point that the lengths of these chapters are not going to be consistent at all.

Bog scanned the land below him with apprehension. He and Plum were flying through the fairy kingdom now, and were attracting far too much attention for his liking. Every time they flew over a town, they were met with shocked gasps, and a multitude of fingers pointed skyward.

Forcing himself to look away, Bog gritted his teeth and focused on the looming tower in the distance. While Marianne had become a regular visitor of the dark forest, the same could not be said for Bog in regards to her kingdom. He believed that while most of the goblins had taken an immediate shine to her, her people would not be as welcoming towards him. Despite her reassurances, his reluctance had held firm, and she had conceded to not push the matter.

Feeling the swarms of eyes on him now, Bog felt that such a decision might have been unwise. Perhaps he should be making more of an effort to help her people become used to him.

 _Or maybe they never will_ , piped up an ugly voice in the back of his mind. _Maybe you’ll always be the horrifying monster of their nightmares. Isn’t that what you believe? Isn’t that why you’ve always chosen to remain hidden away in your forest?_

Bog shook these thoughts away violently. Now was not the time for all that nonsense. He needed to focus on the plan. That was all that mattered right now.

Soon enough, they touched down in the courtyard of the palace. A pair of guards jumped at their approach and raised their weapons halfway before shooting each other quizzical stares. The romance between the fairy princess and the Bog King was not exactly a secret within the realms. In fact, in the past few months very little else had been talked about in regards to political gossip. Still though, the Bog King had never visited the Fairy Palace before, and they weren’t exactly sure if he was to be permitted.

Bog cloaked his nerves in his façade of stoicism, an act that had become second nature to him, and drew himself up to his full height.

“If you would be so kind” he began, keeping his voice smooth and free of its usual snarl “please allow us to pass. I have business I wish to discuss with the royal family.”

The two guards remained frozen to the spot, indecision warring on each ones face. At last, one of them spoke up. “What kind of business?”

Bog narrowed his eyes, but otherwise gave no outward indication of his irritation. “That” he responded “is for their ears alone. Will you let us pass or not?”

The guards fidgeted, not wanting to cause an incident by insulting a monarch, and a terrifying one at that, but also not wanting to fail in their duties by allowing him access to the castle.

Bog rolled his eyes and was about to suggest that they simply send a messenger to Dagda to announce his presence when he was abruptly cut off.

“SERIOUSLY?” Plum’s voice cut through the morning air loudly and Bog jumped. She had been so uncharacteristically quiet until now that he had almost forgotten her presence. “Do you know who this is? Do you know who I am?” Both of the guards ducked their head and mumbled something unintelligible, but she paid them no mind.

“He is the Bog King, ruler of the dark forest and lover to your future queen.” Bog almost threw up. Both he and Marianne hated when other people attempted to place a label on their relationship. Boyfriend, girlfriend, partner, sweetheart, they had heard them all and despised each one as much as the last. “Lover”, however, was quite possibly the worst, in Bog’s opinion. But he remained stone faced in front of the guards, despite the heat he felt rising in his face. “If he wanted, he could subdue you both and enter the palace by force. Nothing could stop him from seeing his lady.”

This time, Bog did put his head in one of his hands. He wasn’t sure how much of Plum’s theatrics were due to her own obsession with the concept of love, and how much of it came from her delight in making him squirm. Either way, it made his scales rattle in disgust.

On the bright side, her logic appealed to the guards, as they lowered their weapons and stood on either side, permitting them both entrance into the castle. Without wasting another second, Bog gave each of them a curt nod and strode in briskly.

As he marched along the corridor, another thought came to him that made him blush with embarrassment all over again. He had no idea where to find Marianne, or the King in this giant palace. He certainly wasn’t going to march back towards the guards they had just left behind to ask for directions. Instead, he kept going forward. If this castle was anything like his own, he might be able to find the throne room without help.

This train of thought, however, was derailed by the sound of loud voices, coming from a corridor on his left. His ears perked when he recognized one of the voices as Marianne’s, and hurried to meet her, Plum in tow.

They arrived at a set of large double doors, just as the voices inside had begun to reach a crescendo. Bog now could pick out more specific voices; one belonging to the younger princess, Dawn, and one that was Dagda’s.

Bog stood outside the door, and shared a questioning look at Plum, shrugging his shoulders. She jerked her head towards the door and made a knocking gesture. Bog squared his shoulders, and raised his hand.

Just as his knuckles almost hit the wood of the door, it was thrown open and Marianne half-walked half-ran right into him.

“Whoa, wha-“ she looked dazed for a moment, before her eyes locked onto his face, growing wide with surprise. “Bog? You’re here!”

“Err, yes. It would appear that I am.” He remarked dryly, at a loss for anything else to say. From over her shoulder, Bog could see the King and Dawn staring at him with equal amounts of surprise as Marianne.

Before he could think of anything else to add, Marianne had recovered herself and had grabbed him by the arm. “You know what?” she said as she dragged him into the room. “This is good. I’m glad you’re here. My father, the King of the Fairy Kingdom has an idea. He won’t listen to either of his daughters when they tell him how stupid it is, but maybe he will listen to a fellow king.”

Now she stopped in front of her sister and father. Plum had floated in after them, making sure to shut the door behind her.

“Go on, Dad” Marianne said with mock encouragement “Tell him all about your brilliant idea to get us out of this mess that we’re only in because you thought it was a good idea to lie to another royal family.”

Dagda cleared his throat awkwardly. Marianne and Dawn both crossed their arms and gave him pointed looks. Bog merely raised one of his brows curiously, deciding to wait and see what was going on before speaking.

“Well,” Dagda spoke “I was hoping that you wouldn’t be dragged into this Bog, but now that you are, you may as well know what’s going on. A few weeks ago-“

“He knows about the letters Dad.” Marianne interrupted. “Just get on to the part with the plan you made this morning.”

Dagda paled a bit, looking to Bog to see his reaction, but Bog showed no anger, only curiosity.

“Very well then” the King cleared his throat “As you know, the Nymphs coming to visit us expect to try and court both Marianne and Dawn. What I was proposing was that they each have a suitor already with them when the Nymphs come to port-“

“A fairy suitor” This time it was Dawn who broke in, stressing the word fairy. “Daddy wants us both to pick out a fairy from one of the royal guards to pretend to be our boyfriends, so that the Nymphs won’t try to marry us.”

Bog lifted an eyebrow. So the King had a similar plan to Plum’s. That was interesting. Before he could give a reply, the King was chattering hastily.

“It’s only a temporary solution.” He stammered, clearly fearful of the goblin’s wrath. “Until the Nymphs have returned to their island. Then everything goes back to how it was.” He laid the reassurances on fairly thick, and if Bog himself hadn’t felt so nervous, he would have been amused.

He realized with a start that they were all waiting for him to speak. Marianne had a very smug look on her face, clearly expecting him to say how much he hated the idea.

Bog cleared his throat. “As much as that plan makes sense” he tried to ignore the sight of Marianne’s jaw dropping from the corner of his eye. “Might I offer a counter proposal?”

“A counter proposal?” Dagda asked. Now the three of them were eyeing him curiously.

“Ehm. Yes. That was actually the reason I- we” he gestured to Plum “decided to come here. We have an idea of our own to share.”

“Then let’s hear it” the King motioned for them to continue.

“Okay then” Plum sprang forward before Bog had a chance to open his mouth. “Here’s the deal: Most people think all I’m good at is making love potions, but that’s not the case. Good thing too because now I-“

“Getonwithit” Bog coughed harshly, earning a look of reproach from the sparkling fairy. Turning away with a huff, she resumed.

“I also know how to make other kinds of spells, more to the point, I can make a transformation spell.” She threw up her hands at this last part. When her enthusiasm was met with only blank stares, she continued, an edge of irritation to her voice.

“A transformation spell allows a person to take on a different form for a certain amount of time. You know, a toad can look like a prince, a wolf can look like an old lady” at this point, she stressed her voice and jerked her head to Bog “A goblin could be made to look like a fairy.”

Comprehension dawned on all of their faces at once. “You mean,” Dagda breathed out “That he would turn into a fairy?”

“That’s what I’m saying” Plum crossed her arms smugly “I can get all of the ingredients for the spell and have it ready by this evening.”

“And you’d have one for Sunny too, right?” Dawn’s eyes gleamed with joy.

“Oh, of course I can dear” Plum said graciously. “It would be my honor.”

Dawn giggled and danced on her tiptoes in happiness, “Oh yay! My Sunny and I won't be separated after all. I can’t wait until he hears this” then she spun out of the room, eager to share the news with her elf.

“Now hold on” Dagda seemed less enthusiastic about the idea “What about your kingdom? How will-“

“While your concern is appreciated, it is unnecessary.” Bog felt that the other monarch’s reluctance probably had less to do with worry for Bog’s subjects, and more to do with how his plan to temporarily keep his daughters away from their respective paramours had failed. “I’ve worked out all of the details. My mother will be in charge while I’m away. From what I’ve heard, your cousins only stay for a week, so I doubt my kingdom will collapse into disarray under such a short time.”

When Dagda still seemed unsure, Plum interjected “Look. You’re plan is solid, but won’t the Nymphs just recognize your guards? Wouldn’t they insist that your daughters marry royalty? If I disguise Bog as a fairy, we can pretend that he's a prince from some far flung kingdom, here to seek Marianne’s hand in marriage.” Bog felt his face flush at these words, but said nothing. “If you choose palace guards to act out that scene, there’s a chance they would be recognized. The only real problem will be to keep your subjects from spilling the beans to the Nymphs.” It was a real concern. Every citizen of the fairy kingdom knew of the princesses’ relationships, and a secret like that could hardly be kept by so many people.

Dagda thought about this for a moment. “That actually wouldn’t be a problem. The nymphs are very-err- proper. They tend not to associate with anyone below their own bloodline. Whenever they visit they never speak to anyone outside of the castle walls.” At length, he let out a sigh “Very well. I suppose you have good points. We will find a room in the palace to put you and Sunny up for this short period.”

Bog gave a sigh of relief “Then it’s agreed. All we have to do now i-“

“Agreed?” the word was spoken softly, but carried throughout the room as if ithad been shouted. Bog, Dagda and Plum turned to face Marianne, whom Bog just realized had been silent throughout most of the exchange. Now, seeing the anger on her face, he took a few steps back.

“Agreed?” she said a bit more loudly “I don’t recall agreeing to this. Oh, right, that’s because I didn’t and I won’t!”

“Marianne” Dagda seemed taken aback “Why in the world wou-“

“Because” Marianne snapped “It’s the exact same plan that you came up with. Set things up so I have to pretend to be with someone I’m not with. I’d still have to lie and hide things for other people’s comfort.”

“But-“ Bog reached for her.

“I said no and that’s final.” Marianne snatched her hand away from him and strode out of the room into the hallway.

The three of them stood still for a moment, completely befuddled as to what just occurred. At length, Dagda moved to go after her, but Bog held him back.

“No,” he said “Let me. I’ll handle this alone.” And without another word, he took off after Marianne.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Sorry.

Bog had to run to catch up with Marianne as she marched briskly down the long hallway. For someone with legs much smaller than his own, she was sure making the most of her strides.

“Don’t even try to talk to me right now, Bog” she said in a clipped voice as she heard the sound of his approach. Her head never moved in his direction, and her gaze remained directed forward. “I’m in no mood.”

“Marianne, wait” he reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her “you can’t just-“

“Oh ho!” she snapped harshly, yanking her arm out of his grip and spinning to face him, a snarl on her lips. “You want to tell me what I can’t do? Here’s a thought. Maybe you shouldn’t go behind my back. Maybe you shouldn’t be trying to make huge decisions like this without even bothering to think about how I would feel.” Bog flinched under these accusations, but resolutely refused to break eye contact with her.

She then sighed heavily, all of her anger flooding out at once. “Why are you even doing this?” her tone had cooled from irritation to exasperation. “I would have thought you’d be on my side, helping me stand up to the Nymphs, not offering up your assistance with appeasing their snobbish sensibilities.” She looked away at that, but not before he caught the look of hurt betrayal in her eyes, making his gut clench.

Bog took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and he chose his words with care.

“What would you have me do, Marianne? Stand beside you when the Nymphs come into port, so that you can proudly gesture to me and say ‘Greetings, fellow monarchs. This is my goblin. We are romantically involved and if you don’t like it, tough beanstalks.’”

Marianne tried very hard to hide her smirk over imagining such a scenario, but she let out a soft huff of laughter. “It would be satisfying.”

“Undoubtedly” Bog said neutrally “It would be funny, entertaining, and emotionally fulfilling.” Then he took a step towards her, and his expression became somber. “And then what? The Nymphs decide that they will not stand for such a slight, and cut off all trade with the fairy kingdom? Your economy takes a serious hit, coupled with shortages throughout the land? All because you and I couldn’t stomach the idea of kowtowing to your stuck-up cousins from across the pond for a few days?”

As he spoke, Marianne’s expression slowly drifted from resolute to guilty. Without thinking, he reached out and took hold of her shoulders, rubbing them comfortingly. “Listen, you’ve always been unapologetically true to yourself. It’s one of the things I love most about you. But sometimes, being true to yourself is a luxury that you simply cannot afford, and that goes especially for royalty. You’re a princess Marianne, and you’re going to be Queen one day. You can’t just act however you wa-“

He cut himself off, realizing his tone had become decidedly patronizing. After clearing his throat, he tried again.

“What I mean is” he continued, hoping he wasn’t coming off as condescending “Take it from somebody who’s been a king for a long time. Ruling a kingdom means putting your people before your own comfort, your own desires. Hell, sometimes even your own needs.”

Marianne still didn’t say anything. She was staring down at the ground, but with a contemplative look in her eyes. He brought her close into a hug, and to his relief, she didn’t fight him. Rubbing her back reassuringly, he continued. “It’s only going to be for a few days. We can put up with that, can’t we?”

“I just-“ her voice was soft, and she pressed her head into his chest, making her words somewhat muffled. “It feels like I’m letting you down. That if I agree to all of this, I’m admitting that I should be ashamed of you.”

Aha. So there lay the root of the problem. It was certainly understandable, Bog conceded. While he fooled most of the realm into seeing him as this powerful, strong and fearless ruler, at the same time he was acutely aware that he did not do a very good job of hiding his insecurities from people who truly knew him. Of course Marianne would be worried about how he would feel, being roped into this scheme to hide the fact that she was with someone like him.

“But you aren’t ashamed of me.” He said with uncharacteristic confidence, pulling one arm around her completely, while the other came up to cup the back of her head. “And I know that. You don’t have to prove anything to me tough girl. As long as you love me, I could care less for the opinions of a load of pompous nymphs.”

Marianne lifted her chin to eye him warily. “You mean that?”

His gaze never wavered. “Aye. You have my word.” He released her and stepped back, offering his hand. “So what do say? Do we have a deal?”

Marianne looked at his hand before swatting it out of the way. Then she quickly stepped up to him and pressed her lips to his in a slow, sweet kiss. When they broke apart, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Deal.”

They stayed in that position, locked in a hug, for a few more moments before Marianne let out a gusty sigh. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it though.”

Bog’s only response was a low, answering chuckle.


	5. Chapter 5

“What’s taking her?”

Bog opened one of his eyes to regard the younger fairy sister with mild exasperation. While he had been sharing the same thoughts, he didn’t feel the need to break the comfortable silence of the room with chatter, knowing full well that it would do nothing to speed up the Sugar Plum Fairy’s journey.

“She’s doing the best she can.” Sunny reached out to take Dawn’s hand. “I’m sure it won’t be much longer now.”

They were seated in a guest room in the castle, awaiting Plum’s return with the spell. The group consisted of Bog, Marianne, Dawn, Sunny, and the King, all sitting on various chairs and cushions, except for Bog, who had decided to perch on the windowsill.

He turned away from the room and looked out over the kingdom contemplatively. The rolling hills and bright green meadows did little to lift his spirits. He had meant what he said to Marianne. If she thought he was worth loving the way he was, then he could handle the presence of a few snobby nobles who despised goblins for a few days. But the thought of spending so much time away from his home, in strangers’ company, in a stranger’s body, still sent waves of nausea through him. He glanced over to Marianne to find her watching him. He smiled and gave her a teasing wink for good measure. She gave her own smile in response and rolled her eyes at his antics. He would not let her think he was having doubts now.

When he returned his gaze to the window, a flash of blue on the horizon caught his eye. “Hey,” he said, standing up “I think that’s her.” The others rushed to the window, peering at the area he was pointing to.

“Oh, I see her.” The King said. He moved everyone aside and opened the window. As Plum came closer to the castle, he motioned for her to make her way towards him. Within a few moments, a blue blur swooped in through the window and twirled through the room gaily.

“Ah.” Plum sang loudly “What a treat. You know it’s been so long since I’ve gotten to make some magic, ever since _somebody_ -“

“So you do have the spells.” Bog cut her off. He didn’t need to hear anymore whining about his ban on love potions.

“Well of course I do” Plum brought her hands out from behind her back. In each she held a bottle of swirling red and blue liquid. “All you need to do is pour the contents of this bottle over the individual in question and voila! Instant fairy!”

“Perfect” The King said, reaching for one of the bottles “Now lets-“

“Whoa!” Plum snatched the bottles out of reach, and floated higher, away from the Kings grasp. “First thing’s first. You have to know about this potion before you can use it.” 

She sent another pointed look in Bog's direction, and he shot her a silent snarl in return.

“Okay.” Marianne crossed her arms. “What do we need to know?”

Plum grinned, pleased to have an attentive audience. “It’s simple. Once the spell is in place, the individual in question will remain a fairy for exactly one month, before changing back into their true form.”

“A MONTH?“ Bog choked out. “Now wait just a-“

“Let. Me. Finish.” Plum snapped at him, and he obliged, grousing at her silently.

“Now where was I?” She said “Oh that’s right. But since your cousins won’t be here that long, you can simply break the spell yourselves when they go home.”

“How?” Sunny asked nervously.

“It’s easy. All you have to do is clicked your tongue twice” she made an exaggerated motion with her tongue to show how it was done. “And then clap your hands three times” Again, she demonstrated. “And you’ll be back to your old selves. Everybody got that?”

“Got it.” Sunny said “Click you hands three times. Clap your tongue twice.”

Bog felt relief at her words. The sooner he could get to his home, the better. But he also felt a bit of trepidation. What if something went wrong? What if he was somehow stuck that way forever? How would he-

“Bog?” Marianne’s voice cut through his train of thought, and he glanced up to see everyone looking at him. He wasn’t sure how long he had remained lost in his own head, but it seemed that they had been trying to talk to him. “You okay?”

“Yes- Yes. Of course.” He steeled himself and forced his nerves to calm down. Everything would be fine. He was just getting last minute jitters. Totally normal. Nothing would go wrong, and soon this would all be nothing more than an unpleasant memory. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

“Okay” Plum swooped over his head, one of the potions uncorked from its bottle. “Hold still now-“

“WHOA!” Fast as a whip, Bog ducked out of the way and snatched the bottle from her grasp. All eyes in the room turned to him, wary of this extreme reaction. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Um. I’m administering the potion?” Plum gave him a confused look.

“Right now?” Bog felt his face heating up.

“Yes. Why do you think we’ve been waiting all this time?” The King threw up his hands in exasperation. Sunny and Dawn were looking at him like he’d grown a second head, and Marianne had a concern in her eyes.

“What else could be left to do before we enact the spell?” Plum asked him.

Bog looked around disbelievingly, and felt his entire face flush from the neck up. So far, he had assumed no one else had brought it up simply because it would be an uncomfortable subject to voice out loud. Looking at their expectant faces now, he couldn’t believe it. He was the only one who had actually considered that detail.

Finally, he sighed, reconciling himself to what he had to say. “I’ll tell you what we need to do. You all need to get out.”

“Wait. What?” Everyone was looking at him like he’d gone mad. This look changed to curiosity when he pulled a package out from behind him that had been lying on the windowsill. Marianne vaguely recalled seeing him carrying the package when they first entered the room, but had chosen not to comment on it. He then laid the package on the bed, setting the bottle of potion next to it.

“This” Bog stated dryly “Is a set of clothes that I borrowed from one of the castle servants. It includes trousers, a tunic, and a set of shoes. Now could any of you tell me why I might need these things?”

Bog kept his expression neutral, but felt himself flush even hotter as comprehension dawned on all of their faces, one-by-one. The last to understand was the King, who appeared shocked, to say the least.

“But wait a moment.” He babbled “What about your armor? Isn’t that-“

“Exoskeleton” Bog muttered, looking away from everyone. “It’s part of my body, and therefore, it won’t remain intact when I use the potion.”

“S-So you’re always-“ The King trailed off.

Bog wanted very much to growl, but restrained himself. This had been an awkward enough conversation with Marianne when they had finally had it, and that had been while they were alone. Having to have the same one with her father, in a crowded room, was almost more than he could bear.

With a loud groan of frustration, Bog closed his eyes and ducked his head down, putting his face in his hands. “Yes. I am.” He put a great amount of venom into his words, hoping to distract from his own mortification. “Now why don’t you all leave me alone so we can finally get this done with?”

“Well. You heard him.” Plum’s chipper voice carried over to him, but he kept his eyes firmly shut. “Let’s get out of here. It’s quite rude to watch someone while they’re changing.” Cackling at her own double meaning, Plum sped out of the room.

Bog could hear as the others followed her out, Dawn muttering to Sunny about how he would probably need new clothes too in order to accommodate his growth. He was still waiting for the sound of the door shutting when he heard the King speak up.

“Marianne. Aren’t you coming?”

Bog risked a peek from one of his eyes to see Marianne standing near the couch, not having moved an inch. She walked over to the door and stood in front of it.

“You guys go ahead.” She said. “I’ll be right behind you in a minute.”

Her father looked like he wanted to protest, but she shut the door on him, and he offered no resistance.

She then turned to look back at Bog, who was now looking at her fully, and warily. She gestured over to a wooden stool at the foot of the bed. “Come stand near that, please.”

He did as he was told, waiting for her to respond. She crossed briskly over towards him and stepped onto the stool, bringing herself up to his eye level.

“That’s more like it.” She said with a soft smile, and kissed him.

Whatever surprise Bog felt at this display of affection melted away quickly as he eagerly returned the kiss. Marianne’s hands cupped the top of his head, before sliding down over the sides of his face to his shoulders. One of her hands went to the front of his chest, tracing the lines of his carapace, while the other went to the back of his neck, and scratched lightly at the base of his head.

Bog felt himself let out a soft, involuntary whimper against her lips. If she noticed, Marianne made no comment. Instead, her hand dropped down, not on his spine, thank goodness, but onto one of his wings. Once there, she made smooth, motions, tracing against it lightly, as if trying to feel out the texture of the thin, gossamer lines that ran along the surface.

All at once, realization slammed into Bog line a ton of bricks. Marianne was trying to remember him. All of this kissing and petting was so she could recall what he was really like while he was in fairy form.

Bog was suddenly filled with a warm rush of affection for this fairy who, for some completely incomprehensible reason, loved him so strongly for everything that he was. He surprised her when, without breaking their kiss, he looped his arms around her and lifted her off the stool into a tight hug. Marianne giggled into his mouth, and he wanted the moment to last forever.

Eventually though, they needed to break for air. They both let out loud gasps as he set her back down on the stool and took a step back, flushed but extremely happy. Marianne then looked him up and down, clearly intent on remembering more than just the feel of him.

Despite feeling suddenly bashful under her intense scrutiny, Bog did his best to give her a reassuring smile. However, it came out more as a nervous grimace. Marianne returned it and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear before looking away.

“I’ll get going now. Give you some privacy.” She said reluctantly. As she turned away, he caught her hand one more time. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he felt the need to say something.

“It’s going to be okay.” This time, he actually did manage the reassuring appearance he was looking for. “I’ll still be here. And I’ll still be me.”

Marianne laid her hand on top of his, giving him one last smile before nodding and walking out the door.

When it had shut behind her, he stood for a moment, taking in the quiet and dark surrounding him in the room. He took several deep breaths before walking over to where the potion lay, gleaming innocently on the bed.

“Ah well.” He said at length. “Can’t put it off any longer. Here we go.”

He raised the open bottle over his head, closed his eyes, and tipped out the contents.


	6. Chapter 6

Bog curled his clawless hands into tight fists and held them rigidly at his sides. His nerves were wound tighter than a constricting snake, and he kept fighting the urge to lash out at anything that came near him.

The past few weeks had been nothing but stress, humiliation, stress, discomfort, stress, and frustration. Had he mentioned stress?

When he had first emerged from his chambers, he was met by Marianne, who had waited outside for him. It had been an effort on his part not to cringe at her open-mouthed shock when she was him. 

“Wow” was all she said, looking him over “You look-“

“Yeah.” He had muttered sullenly “I know.”

After taking a look at himself in the mirror, he had determined he made the creepiest looking fairy he’d ever seen. Despite losing his scales, claws, and fangs, he still looked more like a goblin than anything that could have come from the fairy kingdom. His angular features and jutting limbs spoke of a creature that belonged to the dark shadows of the forest. Dark black hair swept backwards in wild, unkempt waves from the top of his head. His skin, though pale, still betrayed a tinge of its usual stormy color. All of his life, he had always avoided looking into reflective surfaces, flinching away quickly whenever he accidentally come across one. But now, the sight made him shudder and turn away with more nausea than ever before.

He was almost tempted to try and call the entire idea off when Dagda made his way down the hall, accompanied by two other fairies.

One Bog was able to recognize as Dawn, but it took him a moment of shock to notice that the other sported the face of her elfin beau.

Sunny strode down the hallway awkwardly, fidgeting with his clothing and looking as though he was about to fall over at any moment, clearly not used to having such an elevated center of gravity.

“Now then,” Dagda had said, clapping his hands together “Let’s make you two into proper fairies.”

What had followed was a crash course on proper fairy etiquette, emphasis on crash. With the Nymph’s visit approaching soon, Bog and Sunny had struggled to learn the ways of fairy royalty. This had included dining manners, dancing, and flying with fairy wings. Although Bog had managed to fair slightly better than Sunny in the last regard, due to having wings of his own, it was ultimately agreed that both of them should attempt to stay on land as much as possible during the week-long visit. As long as Bog lived, he would never forget the moment of lying on the ground, bruised and covered with dirt, as the three members of the fairy royal family looked down on him with concern, hovering effortlessly above. He had just wanted to disappear. Or die, either one worked fine for him.

Now, the day before the nymphs were scheduled to arrive, Bog and Sunny were to be put to their final test. A festival was being held in the center of one of the fairy towns on the outer parts of the kingdom (when wasn’t there a festival being held somewhere, Bog had wondered), and now, the two princesses and their paramours were to attend, to see if they could pass as regular fairies. While Sunny was dashing around, dancing on the floor with Dawn, laughing and having a great time, Bog had hung onto the sidelines, staying as far into the shade as he could, while Marianne had left to explore the fairgrounds on her own.

He sported a leather jerkin, a wool tunic, and dark breeches tucked into a pair of fairy boots. The clothing never seemed to stop itching, though he had originally hoped he would adjust. At one point, he had complained to Marianne about the inconvenience of having to constantly cover one’s body.

“Well, you don’t always have to wear them. Feel free to take them off whenever.” She winked and gave him a teasing smirk, laughing when he’d turned red from his neck up and hastily looked away. After that moment, he never mentioned it again.

His thoughts were interrupted by another bout of whispers off to his right. Glancing up casually, he saw a group of fairy women, huddled together and eyeing him. When his gaze met theirs, they ducked their heads and let out a stream of giggles. Bog ground his teeth and lowered his head once more. It had been like this all evening. Stares, whispers, people muttering about him behind his back. As time wore on, Bog felt his heart drop into his shoes.

This plan simply couldn’t work. Even her own people could tell there was something wrong with him. They knew he didn’t belong right away, so what chance did he have of passing as a fairy to Marianne’s royal cousins?

Another fairy maiden had wandered over towards him. She came up short when she spotted him, mouth hanging slightly open as she looked him up and down.

Bog gritted his teeth and dug his pathetically soft nails into his palms before turning away. He would have liked to do nothing more than fly away swiftly into the wilderness beyond, but knowing he would only make a fool out of himself by flapping his alien wings twice and falling on his face into the dirt, he settled for striding away from the village as fast as his legs could carry him.

Weaving his way through the tall grass and plant stalks, the music of the festival soon faded behind him. He continued on until he came to a small stream flowing along a bed of pebbles. Looking around, he found a large boulder that provided an outcropping to settle himself under. For the moment, he was alone, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt himself relax slightly.

Looking up to the sky, he saw that the sun was dropping just beyond the rim of the horizon, coloring the sky with vibrant hues of purple and orange. It was pretty, and coupled with the sound of the gurgling stream, helped him to feel slightly more at ease.

It would be dark soon, he ruminated. Eventually, he would have to return to the festival, find Marianne, and explain to her that this plan would not work. He would have to tell her that he was going to discard Plum’s spell and return to the forest, and that she would be best off if she just pretended to be in love with one of her father’s guards, like he had originally planned. He winced at the thought, knowing how well she would take such news. But he didn’t fit in. He didn’t belong here and he found evidence of that fact at every turn.

He looked down at his hands, palms showing angry red marks in the skin where his nails had dug in, despite their dullness. Bog let out a groan of frustration at this weak skin and whacked his head on the rock behind him, screwing his eyes shut. He missed his own, tough, goblin hide. He missed his claws and fangs. He missed his own wings that he knew so well, and every day in this foreign shape had his stomach tying itself in knots.

“Bog” the sound made him open his eyes, and he saw a pair of violet wings that he recognized fondly, circling overhead before gliding down towards him. He let out a grunt of acknowledgment and lifted a hand wearily as Marianne came to land in front of him. When he didn’t say anything more, she moved to sit beside him, skootching close and leaning her shoulder into his.

“What’s the matter?” She bantered “Fairy parties not lively enough for you unless there’s a kidnapping involved?” Her smile faltered as he failed to respond, gaze locked firmly on the ground in front of him, his mouth drawn into a thin line.

Marianne quickly switched tactics, taking on a more serious expression. “I was worried about you, you know”. She reached out to grasp one of his hands, rubbing her thumb across the back in soothing motions. “You really shouldn’t wander off like that. I mean, I wouldn’t normally. Worry- that is. But you’re not used to being like this, and I thought-“

Bog’s face softened as he shot her a slightly guilty look. It was true, he wasn’t used to this form. Under normal circumstances, he might have felt offended that she thought him so defenseless. But the truth was, he was defenseless. He certainly wasn’t going to be bothered by her concern for his safety.

“Sorry,” he muttered, turning his hand to gently grasp at her fingers. “Won’t happen again.” He still wasn’t looking at her though, eyes instead locked onto their intertwined hands, more similar now than ever before.

They remained sitting in that position quietly for some time. The sun had set and twilight had turned everything dark. Finally Bog took a breath, gathering the courage to tell Marianne what he had intended to say. But she broke the silence first.

“I guess all of that attention was getting to you, huh?” This time, he did look at her, a knowing smile gracing her features. He blinked in surprise.

“You noticed all of that?” He had assumed Marianne had wandered away from him and had been doing her own thing during the party. Apparently, she had been closer than he’d thought. He might have seen her, he considered suddenly, if he hadn’t kept his head down the whole time.

“Oh, I noticed,” she laughed out “It was hard not to.” It boggled Bog that she wasn’t upset. If anything, she seemed to find it amusing how poorly he passed for a fairy.

“And you don’t think that’s going to be- you know- a problem?” Bog ventured. The point of this whole plan was to see how well he could convince fairy people that he was one of them. Being gawked at with what Bog could only assume to be suspicion and mild distaste was probably not the best test results.

Marianne hummed as she thought, then leaned more of her weight into him. “Not really,” she answered at length “I mean, yeah, it upset me a little at first, but you obviously weren’t showing an interest in anyone, so it’s not like I had any real reason to be bothered.”

Bog stared at her as his brain struggled for a moment to make sense of Marianne’s statement, but came up empty. “Uhhhhh. What?” He said very softly “What does that-“

“I mean” Marianne continued, unaware of his words “I trust you. I know you love me. That’s not even an issue. But after Roland sometimes I, you know-“ She waved her hands in a gesture that apparently was supposed to explain what she meant.

Bog, however, was more confused than ever. “What are you talking about?” What did Roland have to do with any of this? Why was his response to these people’s stares even remotely relevant?

Marianne turned, taking both of Bog’s hands in hers this time. She positioned herself so that they were sitting face to face, and looked him square in the eye.

“Listen,” she said in a serious tone “My baggage isn’t supposed to be your problem. I know I have trust issues, and yes, maybe I can get jealous sometimes, but that’s no reflection on you. I swear, I’m not going to get mad at you when people look at you, or try to flirt with you or anything like that. That’s not something you can control, so don’t worry so much about it, okay?”

Bog’s jaw dropped, and he wasn’t sure whether he was about to laugh or roll his eyes. He struggled to come up with something to say, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Aware that Marianne was awaiting a response, he finally managed.

“You’re kidding. Surely?” When her brow furrowed into sincere confusion, Bog did actually roll his eyes. “Ah come on Marianne. You honestly thought those people were staring for that reason?” He stood up and gestured to his body “For crying out loud, look at me! I look like a gnarled old tree came to life. If anybody was staring, it was because they couldn’t believe a stick bug had somehow acquired fairy skin.”

Realization dawned on Marianne’s face, and now it was her turn to roll her eyes. “For the love of all things sane, Bog” she stood as well “I’d forgotten how thick-skulled you could be sometimes.” With that, she wrapped him in her embrace tightly, head buried into his shoulder. He stiffened at first, but after she held him tighter, making it clear that she wasn’t letting go until he reciprocated, he finally returned the hug, albeit with grumpy sounding mutter that was unintelligible.

“Nobody is staring at you like you’re a freak,” She rubbed his back soothingly, planting a kiss on his collarbone. “Believe me, you can be eye-catching. But not in that way.”

“Are you- Do you really- I mean, you can’t actually-“. Bog was suddenly grateful for the dimness of the light around them, because he felt his face turn deep red. Early on in their relationship, Bog had had a bad habit of responding poorly to Marianne’s praise of his looks. Her compliments were often met with a snort followed by a snarky comment about her sense of humor or her strange tastes. Although he would never have admitted it to anybody, even himself, a small part of him had still feared rejection, and thought that if he allowed himself to believe her words, it would only make the hurt greater when the joke finally ended, and she would have a good laugh at him for having ever falling for her ridiculous ruse of finding him attractive. But Marianne was nothing if not stubborn as all get out. It took a while, but eventually she got him to realize her sincerity, and acknowledge her shows of affection more graciously. Still, old habits die hard, and he often had to hold back the instinct to retreat behind his old cynicism.

“Yes,” Marianne cut through his thoughts when she pulled away to look him in the eye. “I can and I do. I mean, the way you look now, it’s nothing compared to the spiky goblin I love. But still,” her voice dropped to a purr as she snaked one hand up his shirt, the other curling into his hair. “This form does have some perks.” And with that, she brought her lips to his in a slow, sweet, reassuring kiss.

It was quite some time before they returned to the festival to meet up with Sunny and Dawn. Even later before they returned to the castle and finally went off to bed in their respective rooms.

As Bog settled in for the night, he drifted off to sleep. The nerves of what would come tomorrow still lurked in the back of his mind, but he felt more at ease than he had in days.

As long as Marianne was at his side, he could handle whatever these nymphs could throw his way.


End file.
